


Blood Hunter Lust

by StormWildcat



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Battle, Inktober 2018, M/M, Minor Fjord/Mollymauk Tealeaf, light bloodplay, suggested fjordmauk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 23:43:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16418318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormWildcat/pseuds/StormWildcat
Summary: Everyone has their little moment of victory after a battle is won. It just so happens that Mollymauk's is one that catches more than just Fjord's attention. Suggested Fjordmauk.**A Critical Role short inspired by the Inktober 2018 prompt words "Spell" and "Drooling".**





	Blood Hunter Lust

**Author's Note:**

> I've been dying to get into Critical Role fanfiction, especially for my OTP of choice Fjordmauk! This was a little warm up for seeing how it goes inspired by Inktober 2018 prompts! Was a good time writing this one up. 
> 
> *~*Long may he reign*~*

“Molly! Finish this fucker!” Beau’s voice strained against the hoarse battle roar of the raging berserker who stood against them. Blood spattered the enemy’s hide armor, crimson gashes and already purpling bruises peeking out where skin showed. He was on his last legs and the monk knew that there was a certain blood hunter who could smell that the end was near. 

“You got it,” Mollymauk grinned at his target. It was a predatory smile that gave him a wolfish appearance. “Apologies, but you just picked the wrong group to go against today, friend. And now it’s your turn to join your comrade,” he announced, motioning to the already bled out bodies surrounding them. The tiefling drew his swords and slung one over his shoulder, the blade gliding over lavender flesh until it was painted sanguine. Crackling emitted from steel as it became encrusted in unforgiving ice. A spell he had used many times in the past, but it was still a marvel to behold for a certain curious warlock in their party. 

“You made your bed, now lie in it.”

In a quick succession of slashes, a guttural cry gurgled in the berserker’s throat as he fell to his knees. A boot found the fur trimmed chest piece of the defeated foe as Molly lightly tipped him backwards to rest with those who fell before him. “Was a good fight but sadly, he just couldn’t handle us, right?” A series of cheering agreements rang out of the rest of the Mighty Nein. Most of them remained too distracted by the victory to notice the tiefling still looming over the body of his latest kill. All except Fjord.

Before the half-orc could question him, Molly’s lips curled back into another fox-like grin as red eyes traveled over his blades. Summer’s Dance glittered in gold and crimson against the flickering flames of the campfire nearby. As Fjord looked towards Mollymauk and the fire itself, he could see a slightly colored outline of the sword lifting to Molly’s face and the length of his tongue slowly emerging. Fjord’s leather boots felt like they adhered to the grass and dirt beneath them as he watched the blade get slowly pulled across Molly’s tongue. The blood that had coated it was gone by the time the sword was clear of the tiefling’s face. 

Slack jawed, Fjord’s yellow eyes stayed wide and affixed to his companion even as he approached from the direction of the fire. Suddenly breathing was a little more difficult than it had been. Not to mention how uncomfortable his trousers felt. He only started to stir and blink when Molly’s hand found his shoulder and his lips had closed in close to his ear. “I’m awfully flattered, Fjord, but you may want to clean up the drool in the corner of your mouth before Beau or Jester notice.”

“Huh? Oh, shit!” The back of Fjord’s hand immediately snapped to his mouth, nearly accidentally punching himself in the face. 

Sword-calloused slender fingers and palm clapped on his back and a chuckle shook Molly’s chest. “Easy does it, big guy. Don’t want you knocking yourself out now.” As he strutted away, he could feel Fjord’s eyes still boring holes into him. His hips jutted from side to side a little more than usual as he walked away. His voice rang out again, addressing the rest of the party in his usual light-hearted melody, “Alright, let’s move these bodies and get some actual sleep, shall we?”


End file.
